


No One Is To Blame - Part 1

by Cammerel



Series: No One Is To Blame Universe [1]
Category: Kingsman (Movies)
Genre: Adultery, Age Difference, Alternate Universe - Different First Meeting, Harry is Married, Harry is also still a spy, He’s about 24 here and Harry is in his early fifties, Infidelity, M/M, My first notvirgin!Harry fic, Rentboy Eggsy Unwin, ya’ll give me a round of applause?
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-10
Updated: 2019-01-17
Packaged: 2019-09-15 16:51:42
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 9
Words: 10,628
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16937073
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cammerel/pseuds/Cammerel
Summary: Eggsy is plucked from the corner by a gentleman that regrets his decision to commit adultery. But comes back for more anyway.





	1. Chapter 1

Eggsy tucks his hands in his pockets as he leans back against the wall, the other boys on the corner looking nothing short of desperate. He is as well, but he’s still got /some/ pride left in him that makes it difficult to put himself out there like them. So he keeps to himself, bundled up in a jacket for warmth and not bothering to call out to oncoming cars.

Fortunately for him, it doesn’t really set him back. He still manages to make enough money for the night and he’s just come back from his third trip down the alley when a car pulls up beside him and stops.

The windows don’t roll down, but he pushes off from the wall and walks over, quickly climbing into the passenger’s side seat. He’ll take just about anything over staying out there in the cold, but the appearance of the man in the driver’s seat takes him by surprise. Not that the car wasn’t a tip off, but /wow/.

The older man is wearing glasses, dressed to the nines in a perfectly tailored suit, hair suave and parted with not a single hair out of place. He’s very attractive, which isn’t often the case in Eggsy's line of work; and he’s clearly loaded, which… well, kind of is.

Eggsy lifts a brow when he realizes how nervous the man seems, “Stayin’ here or… goin’ back ter yer place?”

“Mine, if you don’t mind,” the man says, glancing at him.

“Ya, I don’t mind, werks good fer me.”

The man starts to drive, hands tight on the steering wheel.

Eggsy tries not to stare, but it isn’t easy with someone so horribly handsome, “This yer first time?”

The car’s only gone less than a block, but he stops them suddenly, shoulders lifting as his head drops and it takes Eggsy a moment to see the clear devastation on his face. It’s not that he wasn’t paying attention, it’s really just that… well, it was a bit unexpected.

“Fuck, sorry, I’ll… stop askin’ questions, promise. You okay, guv? You look like someone’s dun shot yer dog.”

The man glances at him, “If you would not ask questions-”

“I won’t,” Eggsy makes a motion with his thumb and forefinger across his lips, “Zippin’ it up, right now.”

“Much appreciated.”

“So’s I won’t talk about cost, either? ‘M sure you don’t care too much about that sorta thing?”

The man shakes his head, “Hardly.”

“Am I stayin’ the night?”

“Possibly.”

“Alright, shuttin’ up now,” Eggsy smiles sadly and holds his hands up, “Swear down.”

The man looks at him skeptically, but they start off again so Eggsy considers it a win in his book.

They don’t say another word the entire car ride and he turns his gaze away, but he can still feel that intense discomfort from the man in the driver’s seat. His voice had been so soft, so sad, something that Eggsy didn’t really /ever/ get from people wanting to pay him to stay the night, or… for anything at all, really.

He’s never, not once, had someone that’s been clearly distraught over their choice to pay for his services. Eggsy’s not sure, but he thinks it might have something to do with the ring on the man’s right hand, the simple wedding band glimmering from overhead lights as they drive.

The large gates of his home open up and Eggsy nearly swallows his tongue. Yeah, okay. This isn’t normal by any means.

He’s gotten rich blokes before, most of them have either rented out a room, done it in the car, or taken care of business in the alleyway. This is… this is too much. But like he’s going to complain. Maybe he can get a free meal out of it.

Eggsy takes out his phone and texts Roxy to let her know he might not come back tonight. It doesn’t happen often, but she knows to anticipate it.

Her response of a winky face is genuine.

Overnight means more money. More money means rent gets paid and maybe Eggsy can take Daisy out and buy her a pretty dress or a couple outfits or something nice.

It’s a good thing, he tells himself, so long as he don’t get murdered.

Eggsy sizes up the man, as fit as he seems, he does appear to also be a /kind/ person. Eggsy’s not sure he could harm a butterfly, much less a person.

They get inside and he quickly realizes that perhaps the man /can/ harm butterflies, what with how many of them are pinned and hanging on the walls of his foyer.

Eggsy unzips his jacket and starts to take it off when the man comes at him and wraps his arms around him. He startles, but relaxes into the hold as the large hands grip him tight, one on his shoulder having wrapped around his back and the other on his waist on the opposite side. /Oh/, he thinks, returning the embrace, /this is actually nice/.

He’s never had a client… hug him before?

But wow, it really is nice.

It’s actually quite surprising, but the taller man is warm and soft in all the right places, with firm pecs and a gentle touch that makes Eggsy ache longingly. His trysts can be good and intense sometimes, but they’ve certainly never been /intimate/. Not like this. Not at all like this.

The man pulls back, pressing their foreheads together and Eggsy watches his closed eyes, his trembling bottom lip as he cups Eggsy’s jaw. And then the older man draws him in, pressing their lips together, kissing him with this unquenchable thirst. It’s like his first sip of alcohol after /years/ of sobriety, finally something with flavor, with warmth.

Eggsy’s knees nearly buckle, but he kisses back, cock filling embarrassingly quickly as the man pushes him back against the frame of the door and continues to take and /take/ everything he can. The kiss turns hard and desperate, tongues brushing briefly and then all at once, Eggsy letting out a loud moan when his hat falls off and those large hands grab at him, one in his hair and the other moving down to touch his chest.

The kiss finally breaks, but it’s like the spell of the last two minutes (maybe more? He’s not sure, he lost real track there for a moment) evaporates at once when the man steps away like he’s been burned, his hand over his mouth.

Eggsy keeps himself with his back against the door frame, staring at him as they catch their breaths together.

“God, I… shouldn’t have done that,” the man says, blinking quickly, his voice cracked and hoarse, “If you’ll… excuse me…”

Eggsy starts to open his mouth when the man flees into what he can only assume is the living room. He doesn’t know how else to react, so he follows, frowning when he sees the state of the man, crumpled on the couch with his face in his hands.

“Look,” Eggsy says nervously, trying to keep his tone soft, “I’m not here to judge, okay?” he steps over the plush carpet, taking a seat by the man, “But you… really seem like this is tearin’ you apart.”

He doesn’t expect a response, but he waits, and he does eventually get one.

“This isn’t me, this isn’t who I am,” the man says, finally taking his hands from his face but not looking at Eggsy, “I’m not like this, I’m really not,” he’s so apologetic that it damn near breaks Eggsy’s heart, “I’m a gentleman. I pride myself on that, I always have. I don’t…” he shakes his head, going silent again.

Eggsy shifts on the couch, reaching out to touch his shoulder.

“I shouldn’t have done this,” he continues finally, “God, I’m a married man, I love my wife… I… just…”

Eggsy blushes and looks away. This is such a personal conversation to be having, he doesn’t even /know/ this guy, but he feels so helpless.

“I’m not in love with her.”

Eggsy’s brows lift.

“I have never been in love with her. My god, how could I?”

“Everyone makes mistakes, guv.”

“Not me,” the man finally looks at him, “My career and everything in it is always careful and professional. How is it that my personal life is in shambles?”

Eggsy doesn’t know how to answer that question in the slightest.

The man runs his shaking hands through his hair, messing it up slightly, “I’m sorry I’ve done this to you. I’m sorry I’ve done this at all.”

“Look,” Eggsy says, twisting his lips, “You don’t have to apologize, you don’t owe me anything, okay? I’ll just go and… I can walk, it doesn’t matter, alright?”

“No, no, you can stay,” the man says calmly, “I’ll pay you for the full night, I… it’s the least I can do.”

“You don’t have to.”

The man sighs and sits back in his seat, staring up at the ceiling, “Honestly, I don’t mind. It’s no trouble at all. And… well, I suppose I wouldn’t mind the company.”

Eggsy presses his lips together, but nods. He’s only a little bummed? The guy is fit as hell and ridiculously attractive, he’s probably amazing in the sack. But he… clearly has problems of his own that need some sorting out.

“Are you hungry? I could cook us something.”

Eggsy almost asks why he wouldn’t just have a maid do that, but that’s assuming. So he keeps his mouth shut and nods again.

“May I ask if you’re allergic to anything? Don’t eat meat?”

“Nah,” Eggsy shakes his head, “Actually, I’m allergic to desitin, but that’s not… really… relevant.”

The man gives him a strange, amused look and inclines his head, “Very well.”

Eggsy blushes again and keeps to himself as the older man stands and leaves the room.

On his own, he finally takes off his jacket and his shoes, looking around the living space and getting up to take a closer look at the bookshelf.

There are dozens of books on an array of subjects - butterflies, tailoring, some fictional pieces, history, dog breeds, knitting… and then some weirdly /specific/ ones like _‘How to Make a Shoe’_ or _‘The Principles of Psychology’_ or _‘Influence: Science and Practice’_... _‘The Effective Executive: The Definitive Guide to Getting the Right Things Done’_ , and finally, _‘The Perfect Course of Instruction in Hypnotism, Mesmerism, Clairvoyance, Suggestive Therapeutics, and the Sleep Cure: Giving Best Methods of Hypnotizing by Masters of the Science’_.

Eggsy picks the last one to thumb through and startles when he hears the voice in the entryway.

“My apologies, I never got your name.”

Eggsy looks at the older man, eyes wide.

“Is that… normal?” the man asks tentatively, “I wasn’t sure if it was impolite to ask.”

“Pretty sure yer anything but impolite, guv,” Eggsy smiles, “Gary.”

“Harry Hart,” the man responds and smiles softly, “Nice to meet you, Gary.”

Eggsy swallows and nods, “Yeah, you too.”

He watches Harry walk back into the other room and finally puts the book back on the shelf before following him, hands in his pockets, “Yer uh… wife not home?”

“She’s never really home,” Harry tells him from his position by the counter, quickly cutting vegetables at a speed that would leave Eggsy with blood all over, “Neither am I, for that fact.”

“‘Cept tonight, apparently.”

“Yes, well,” Harry looks embarrassed, “The home /is/ more often occupied by the cleaners, that much is true.”

“What d’you two do fer a living?”

“I’m a tailor,” Harry tells him as he turns to clean the chicken, “My wife is a lawyer. And, more often than not, she stays there instead of coming home. She has a place she owns closer to her work.”

Eggsy nods slowly, “That must be hard.”

“It used to be.”

“That why you was… lookin’ for company?”

Harry stills and places the chicken on the cutting board, looking incredibly guilty all of a sudden, like Eggsy just said the worst possible thing he could’ve in this scenario.

“I…” Harry flounders for a moment, “I… I must apologize for that again, it was a mistake, a horrible mistake-”

“Relax, okay?” Eggsy leans on the counter, “Yer not the first gent I’ve had that’s ‘ad a ring on ‘is finger.”

“God please, don’t…” Harry shakes his head, turning away to wash his hands, “That’s not who I am, I wouldn’t do such a-I can’t believe I did such a thing… I don’t know what I was thinking. I /wasn’t/ thinking.”

Eggsy watches him as he finishes up, putting everything into a baking dish and then into the oven before he turns to Eggsy once more.

“I’ve been married for thirty-five years,” Harry tells him, hands resting back on the edge of the marble surface, “Not once have I ever been truly happy with her, but I’ve been honest and loyal and committed to this marriage because it’s who I am. For thirty-five years I’ve never allowed myself to stray from my marriage, not even for a second.”

“‘Til tonight?”

“A moment of weakness.”

Eggsy moves around the counter closer to Harry, “Yer gay?”

“I…” Harry sighs and drops his head, “Yes, I guess that’s what I am. And I’ve never… I haven’t…”

“Never been with a bloke?”

Harry shakes his head, “What a scandal I’ve created… what a mess.”

“If yer unhappy, why even bother marrying her in the first place? Why put yerself in that position at all?”

“It’s what mother wanted,” Harry tells him, “It’s what my father also wanted, and I’ve… God, I could never bring such shame to my family while he was alive. I didn’t even dare to think to /try/ at all while he was still breathing.”

“I’m guessin’ ‘e’s not anymore?”

Harry swallows tightly, “No, he passed away a few months ago.”

“And now you’ve been thinkin’ about… acting out, for once?”

“A grave error on my part. Again, my deepest apologies.”

“God, man, stop apologizin’ so much fer finally trying to make yerself happy!”

Harry blinks in surprise, “I… I am happy.”

“Maybe I’d believe that, if you wasn’t standin’ in front of me, fuckin’ miserable and stuck in a long-ass committed relationship that has just about as much love in it as Rhett and Scarlet’s. I dunno ‘ow yer wife feels, but it can’t be dissimilar.”

“It’s not,” Harry says, voice low and more of a murmur, “She’s been sleeping with another man for nearly twenty-five years, I can’t even keep my own wife happy.”

“Are you really blamin’ yerself fer that?”

“Who else’s fault is it? A gentleman accepts full responsibility of the results of his-”

“Fuck off, okay?” Eggsy says in annoyance, “Try blamin’ nobody, or society, sometimes /no/ one is to blame.”

Harry frowns, but doesn’t say anything further and neither does Eggsy.

They eat together, they go to sleep in separate rooms, and Eggsy leaves the next morning before the sun’s up.

He doesn’t stop to see if Harry’s awake, but he ducks out quickly and hops the gate at the end of the property. As much as he’d like to help, it really isn’t his place.

Life goes on from that day, but Eggsy doesn’t go long without his thoughts eventually going back to that day - the conversations, the sadness in the older man’s eyes, the shaking in his voice and his hands. But mostly he can’t stop thinking about the kiss, the heat, the urgency, the hunger, the taste bitter and sweet like the rind of a fruit. The way Harry held him beforehand.

Eggsy thinks of it all the time.

Sometimes the memory comes back when something similar is done or said, and sometimes he wakes up with Harry on his mind, his warm brown eyes, his sad smile.

Days pass, weeks, months…

The memory comes less and less.

* * *

A car pulls up alongside where Eggsy’s stationed himself on Smith Street and he walks over and climbs into the passenger’s side, grateful for the warmth as he takes his hands from his pockets.

And then he freezes stone still when he sees Harry sitting there in the driver’s seat.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This full fic was already posted elsewhere (10.5k words) and has been since October. For full releases at once, visit my Tumblr @Cammerel to find out more.


	2. Chapter 2

Eggsy’s eyes go from Harry’s perfect profile, to his hair, to his suit, to his hands and the ring still on his finger now partnered with one on his pinky that Eggsy hadn’t seen the last time they were together.

“Been a while.”

“A year,” Harry observes, tone calm as he starts driving.

“Yeah, a year… to the day,” Eggsy realizes, “Aren’t you sentimental.”

Harry doesn’t respond immediately, but Eggsy can already tell that this man is different than the one he met last year.

Last year Harry was a nervous wreck - distraught, disturbed, visibly upset. It was very clear how much conflict was happening on the inside. Today, he is still a little tense, but he seems to have accepted this course of action, resolved to his unhappiness and the need for companionship that he… apparently wants to partake in with Eggsy? Again? Not that they did much the first time.

He’s had to have done it already a few times at /least/.

No man would change so drastically without having done the deed already, so Eggsy brings it up, curious to see if talking about such a thing would unravel some of that resolve.

“No,” Harry says firmly, “Just the once, just… just you.”

Eggsy lifts a brow, he can’t believe it, he /can’t/, “Why come back to me, then? Why not just… someone else?”

“You were kind and understanding,” Harry says softly as he drives past the gate, “Where I had spent time talking myself down, you didn’t push me into it, you didn’t try to convince me to sleep with you. You offered insight and a point of view I hadn’t considered before.”

“Wot point of view is that?”

“Perhaps no one /is/ to blame for what has happened,” Harry responds, “I’ve become lackadaisical with my misery, and I… want to change that.”

Eggsy joins him in the foyer, locking the door behind himself as Harry unbuttons his jacket.

“One moment,” Harry says and walks up the stairs.

Eggsy watches after him, then looks around the house. He could’ve been here yesterday, for all that’s changed in his surroundings. Not a shadow box out of line, not a single difference he can notice in his brief onceover.

Harry returns, sleeves rolled to his elbows, jacket likely left back upstairs, maybe in his room, his dress shirt unbuttoned down a few from the top.

Eggsy stares, heart racing when Harry doesn’t stop, walking to him and cupping his face in those large hands not unlike he had last time. But now he stares, gaze running over Eggsy’s features and Eggsy blushes at the scrutiny.

“You are absolutely beautiful, Gary,” Harry says, voice somewhat breathless, “I didn’t say it last time, and I should’ve. /That/ was my mistake and I won’t make it again.”

“Harry,” Eggsy mumbles, almost having forgotten that he went with his real name. God, how he wished he could be honest, /he/ would pay to hear Harry call him ‘Eggsy’ instead. But he has one rule.

Harry draws him in then, not unlike he did last time, and kisses him.

It’s actually very similar to last time. Starting gentle but growing intense quickly.

Harry’s fingers run down over his neck and shoulders, pressing his chest until his back’s against a wall and then those same fingers hook under the hem of his shirt and slide up his stomach.

Eggsy moans weakly, gasping when Harry sucks his tongue into his mouth, nipping gently when he lets it go and helps Eggsy out of his shirt.

“Let me know if this gets to be too much fer you,” Eggsy says when Harry reaches for the button of his pants.

Harry stares at him as he drags down the zipper and then helps to push down the jeans to Eggsy’s knees, “That won’t be a problem.”

“You sure?”

“I am,” Harry says calmly, palming Eggsy’s chest and teasing his right nipple, “You have condoms?”

“Ya, in my pocket.”

Harry reaches into the one Eggsy motions to and produces a roll of condoms, taking one off and carefully tearing it open. He’s mindful when he rolls it on Eggsy’s cock, pinching the tip together with his index and forefinger.

“Fuck,” Eggsy hisses just before Harry drops down to his knees and drags those large hands down his hairy legs. He actually almost apologizes. For what? Not shaving? Like… it’s a really weird almost apology. But the older man just moans and leans in, breathing in deeply and all the blood in his body struggles to decide whether it wants to go south or north. He feels dizzy, wanting to chuckle at the action but also finding it embarrassingly arousing.

Can’t say he’s ever had a man /smell/ him before. That’s a new-

His brain halts when Harry wraps his mouth around his cock and starts sucking, one of Eggsy’s hands fisting in his hair and his teeth clenching together.

He nearly chokes when Harry’s hands drop to help him out of his jeans, removing his socks as well and folding everything together (including the shirt) /while/ he’s sucking dick like a man that’s been doing it longer than he has any right to.

Harry pulls back, just a few strands of hair dropping from their perfectly styled position to brush teasingly against his eyebrow, “How is your refractory period?”

“Top notch, guv, why d’you-fuck!” Eggsy shouts when Harry hoists his knees up onto his shoulders and goes back down in a smooth action that /should/ cause him to gag, would cause Eggsy to. Of course the man has no gag reflex to speak of, that would be ungentlemanly-

Eggsy’s once again taken from his thoughts when the hands move up his sides, feeling him out and then back down to grab his arse and run over his legs once more. He feels the chill bumps rise on his skin, his hips bucking involuntarily, but Harry just moans and responds in kind with nothing short of calm composure.

The tingle starts building slowly and then all at once, absolutely nothing comes out of his throat other than a weak ‘yes, yes, fuck, shit, Harry, fuck’, and then he’s spent.

Harry handles it like only a gentleman would, one raised brow and nothing more as he pulls back and sets Eggsy back down.

He stands, removing the condom and tying it, tucking it in the wrapper before he takes a /goddamn/ handkerchief from his back pocket and dabs the corners of his fucking mouth.

/This guy./

Eggsy drops back against the wall, “Fuck, yer gonna do me in.”

Harry smiles slightly and turns to pick up Eggsy’s clothes once he’s pocketed his handkerchief and the used condom, “If you’ll join me upstairs.”

“Ya, alright,” Eggsy says numbly, following at once, still trying to catch his breath.

He’s never been up the stairs before, but the bedroom he walks into is so clearly Harry’s, and looks more lived in than any other part of the house he’s seen so far. It’s clean, but it has a lot of detail like a bedroom should. The walls and shelves are full of all kinds of interesting things, a small desk in a corner with stacks of papers, a few filing boxes, a long dresser that stretches across the far wall.

Eggsy stops when he sees Harry undressing and he closes the door with his heel.

“Would you lock it, please, Gary?”

Eggsy does so, joining Harry and reaching out to help him, “How d’you want this, guv? You want me on my stomach or… on my back? Hands and knees?”

“Actually,” Harry takes off his waistcoat and his dress shirt, “If you would give me a moment.”

“Ya, sure,” Eggsy says and he watches Harry go into the bathroom, most likely to throw away the condom.

The older man is only gone for a couple of minutes before he returns, completely naked, his trousers and pants folded in his hands and he sets them on the dresser.

Eggsy’s eyes run over his backside appreciatively, wetting his lips and his gaze snaps up hurriedly when Harry turns back and joins him once more.

“If you would…”

Eggsy looks down when Harry takes his hand and offers over a bottle of anal lube, then another condom from his pants pocket.

Eggsy tilts his head when something finally clicks together, “Wait, you... want me ter fuck you?”

“Is that so surprising?”

“A little.”

Eggsy nearly bites through his lip when Harry lays back on the bed, arms back behind him.

“You… ever done anything like this before… Harry?”

“The occasional mounted dildo, yes.”

“Fuck,” Eggsy groans and climbs onto the bed as well, spreading Harry’s legs with his knees, “I’d pay ter be a fly on the wall of that room.”

“I doubt it’s anything near as phenomenal as you’re imagining, my dear boy,” Harry says and Eggsy notes the color rising in his cheeks, “More likely an old man making a fool of himself.”

Eggsy rolls his eyes, “Ya, I doubt that, guv,” he takes Harry’s left leg and hooks it over his shoulder. God, the man was built for this position, his long legs making it easy to position himself properly.

“You don’t need to prepare me,” Harry informs him, “I’ve already done as much, earlier this evening.”

Eggsy lifts a brow, but tears open the condom and puts it on before moving any further. He checks with his fingers first, slickened with lube he warmed before touching skin. And sure enough, there is quite an easy give. Which, well, makes Eggsy’s imagination go all /sorts/ of places.

He pulls his fingers back and slicks himself, grabbing Harry’s hip and guiding it up, “Mind grabbin’ a pillo’r over there or somethin’?”

Harry turns and reaches out for one, bringing it back and helping him position it underneath his backside.

Eggsy leans in, his hand moving to Harry’s thigh as he looks back up to his eyes, “Y’good?”

“I am, thank you,” Harry says, his voice somewhat shaky.

Eggsy smirks and starts to press in, his gaze dropping down over Harry’s body. For an older man, he is far more toned than he has any right to be, pecs firm and defined, abs carved out, but still showing signs of age in the corners. He runs his hands up and down them, rolling his hips forward and sliding in effortlessly, watching Harry’s face for any signs of discomfort.

It’s been a while since he’s been on top. Not really something clients request, it’s normally only something he experiences during /real/ relationships or the occasional hookup not supplied on the corner.

“Ah,” Harry smiles warmly, “Yes, that is… quite different.”

Eggsy chuckles, “Good dif’rent or bad dif’rent?”

“Very good,” Harry assures him and he gently touches one of Eggsy’s hands, “Thank you for this.”

Eggsy lifts a brow, but turns and brushes his lips against the inside of Harry’s knee, shaking his head, “No need fer thanks. Though, s’pose I should be thanking /you/.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This full fic was already posted elsewhere (10.5k words) and has been since October. For full releases at once, visit my Tumblr @Cammerel to find out more.


	3. Chapter 3

“It’s dangerous to have repeats like that, bruv.”

“I’m being careful.”

Jamal frowns, “Even the most careful people can still end up missing or murdered.”

Eggsy takes a sip of his guinness and glances away, “Trust me, this guy ain’t like that. He’s harmless.”

“A man as fit as you keep sayin’ is /not/ harmless.”

“I mean it mentally,” Eggsy says, gaze tightening, “He… he collects butterflies, for fuck’s sake. He has books on shoemaking and hypnosis. He’s a total harmless man that…” he shakes his head, “He wouldn’t do me any harm, he just wouldn’t, I know he wouldn’t.”

“You’ve been to his house ‘ow many times now?”

“Five times.”

Brandon curses under his breath.

“That’s f’ree times too many, bruv,” Liam speaks up, “It's time you stopped seeing this man. You said you was his first?”

“And only, apparently.”

“Drop him.”

Eggsy sighs in annoyance, scratching above his eyebrow, “I just… I can’t… do that.”

“Wot if ‘e’s a serial killer or som’fing?” Brandon asks, “Wot if yer /not/ the only one he’s been wi’v? Wot if ‘e’s playin’ this game wi’v other boys?”

Eggsy growls in frustration and stands up from his seat, “He’s not like that, stop talkin’ about him like that!”

His three mates blink up at him, eyes wide, but Jamal is the first to speak before Eggsy can storm off.

“Fuck, bruv, you in love with him or som’fin’?”

Eggsy tosses a few bills on the table and stuffs his hands in the pockets of his jacket, then he leaves the others and quickly exits the bar.

He starts making his way towards Smith Street, might as well put in an hour or two of work if he can to make up for the night out with his mates.

Harry isn’t always there. What had taken a year to see him come around again started picking up quickly once they shared that first night together. At first it was a month, then every other week. And these last two times had been weekly back to back.

Each time he felt he learned just a little bit more about Harry and his marriage and his life.

His wife hasn’t been home in nearly a year. They haven’t spoken to one another in /months/. Harry had admitted one time that he was honestly anticipating divorce papers. His wife /was/ a lawyer after all.

Another thing he learned, and something that saddens him any time he thinks about it, is that Harry wants - or had wanted - children. They had tried for the first few years, but it never worked out, and his wife has outright refused to adopt.

Okay, so he has started… growing attached.

So they kiss intimately in a way that he doesn’t with his other clients.

So they’ve gone out to eat on a couple of occasions.

So they hold one another afterwards and sleep in the same bed together until Eggsy leaves in the morning.

So he misses Harry when Harry’s gone.

He’s considered giving the older man his cellphone number or letting him know his proper name or-/fuck/.

He might actually be in love with Harry.

And that was another of his big rules.

Do not.

Absolutely do NOT fall in love with a client.

No if’s, and’s, or but’s.

/Fuck./

* * *

Eggsy reaches out to start unbuckling Harry's belt, but the older man's hands come up to stop him.

“Not tonight, darling,” Harry says softly, tone low.

“Not tonight?” Eggsy asks in confusion, “Why come and get me if you don't wanna do anything tonight?”

“Perhaps to simply enjoy your company?”

Eggsy blushes, “I just… thought…”

“You’ll be paid properly in the morning,” Harry assures him, “I hoped that we might enjoy a night in, merely for the purpose of being around one another.”

Eggsy smiles slowly as Harry laces their fingers together and brings him in, cupping his cheek with his free hand and stealing a quick kiss.

“Warm the couch? I’ll be back in a moment.”

“Ya, alright,” Eggsy agrees and walks over to the couch in the living room, curling up on his usual side and waiting patiently. He sends a quick text to Roxy and meanders on Facebook for a few minutes before Harry joins him again.

“A couple episodes before starting on dinner?”

Eggsy nods and curls in against him, “Yeah, sounds good.”

The idea of watching a tv show of all things with his clients would be… absolutely out of the question, no doubt. Although he’s had the occasional person that wants to watch something weird like porn or Star Trek while they’re fucking, Harry isn’t like that.

Harry actually genuinely seems to like watching things with him. They had quickly agreed on Black Mirror together, something neither of them had seen, and then immediately bonded over what was the complete… insanity of the idea of the first ever episode. It still bothered both of them from time to time.

It was something that left them still needing to talk so much that they swapped phone numbers to continue their conversation over text.

That was another rule Eggsy broke.

Never… /never/ give out your personal phone number. Absolutely never. For no reason.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This full fic was already posted elsewhere (10.5k words) and has been since October. For full releases at once, visit my Tumblr @Cammerel to find out more.


	4. Chapter 4

Eggsy rubs his stomach as he trudges down the stairs, half in a sleep stupor and startles when he sees the kitchen light on.

“Harry?”

“I’m in here, darling,” Harry says reassuringly and Eggsy joins him.

“Wot’re you… eatin’ cereal?” Eggsy asks, lifting a brow, “At two in the morning?”

Harry chuckles and offers the seat to him, “Would you like some?”

Eggsy only considers it for a second, “Ya, definitely,” he moves over and climbs onto a stool, taking the milk and cereal to make him a bowl, “You do this a lot?”

“Sometimes.”

“I normally don’t wake up…”

“No, you don’t,” Harry observes, looking at him, “Normally you sleep through the night. I haven’t been down long… did I disturb you?”

Eggsy chuckles and shakes his head, “Nah, I just… I think I realized you weren’t there,” he admits then and they both look at one another.

/Christ, they’re becoming domestic./

Eggsy’s sleep habits are starting to warp around Harry’s. Which probably explains why he was up until four the other morning, unable to sleep, feeling like something was missing and not being able to place it.

/Fuck./

/What does that even mean?/

Eggsy smiles nervously and takes a bite, humming lowly in approval.

“Yes,” Harry agrees, “Sometimes I need something sweet before I can sleep properly. I did make quite a valiant effort tonight to ignore it.”

“You and yer sweet tooth,” Eggsy teases him, “I’ll never understand how you stay so fit with all the sugar you consume.”

“Good genes, I suppose,” Harry muses aloud, “And perhaps my workout routine.”

Eggsy blinks, “You have a routine?”

“I do.”

“I dern’t believe it.”

Harry finishes his cereal, cleaning the bowl in the sink as Eggsy joins him and they wash up together.

“What would you say if I told you I wanted to keep you tomorrow?” Harry asks tentatively.

Eggsy blushes, “Er… like a full day?”

“And night, again,” Harry says, “You can turn it down, of course. But… I find I have some free time. And I must admit that I like… being around you.”

Eggsy leans against the counter, “My sis has school, I can probably talk a friend into watching her after. Maybe.”

“Is it too awkward and strange for me to meet her?” Harry offers, “I don’t want to inconvenience you, but I also don’t want to make you uncomfortable or… I just…” he sighs and moves in, putting his hands on the counter on either sides of Eggsy, “Perhaps this is too much.”

Eggsy shakes his head, his heart racing, his mind spinning, “No. It’s not,” he says, swallowing tightly, “I mean… maybe it’s not enough.”

“Would you please forget that I asked?” Harry says, his tone low and saddened as he pulls away, the smile not meeting his eyes when he forces it, “I do want to keep you, I wish I could, but that’s not my place. If you would forgive an old man, it… seems I am… too romantic at heart to keep such things to myself sometimes.”

“Nothin’ to be ashamed of, guv,” Eggsy tries to assure him, slowly frowning and reaching out to cup his cheeks before he leans up on his toes to kiss him, “Really, I… I like it.”

“Gary…”

Eggsy lifts a brow in confusion at first, and then he stops himself when he realizes what he’s doing.

God.

What is he turning into?

There’s a /reason/ Harry doesn’t know the name he really goes by.

“Yer right, maybe it /is/ too much,” he agrees finally, but not because he wants to. It leaves a bad taste in his mouth, so he moves in and kisses Harry to try and get rid of it.

Harry’s arms envelop him, one hand cradling the back of his head, the other pressing between his shoulder blades.

He loses himself in it.

If only he deserved it.

* * *

“Call me if you need anything, okay?”

“Always,” Roxy says as she takes Daisy’s hand, “I’ve actually got quite a trip planned today for me and princess Daisy.”

Eggsy smiles, “Ya?”

“Bit of a secret, but I’ll text you about it before we go.”

“Should be excitin’,” Eggsy kisses Daisy on her cheek until she giggles and pushes his face away, “Any chance yer bringin’ yer boyfriend?”

“Maybe. Any chance you’re seeing yours?”

Eggsy blushes, “Don’t call him that, you know he’s not.”

“He should be. He sure /sounds/ like he is,” Roxy waves him off then as Eggsy tucks his hands in his coat and leaves them for the car.

It’s a cold evening, but that doesn’t stop the corner from being almost filled to the brim with others not unlike himself.

Eggsy takes up his usual spot, but unlike he normally would, he keeps his head down and waits for Harry. Six passes, however, and no car has stopped by even resembling Harry’s car.

Eggsy finally takes out his phone and sends a quick text.

_‘Running late?’_

He expects a response, but the minutes tick by and Harry never responds.

An /hour/ later… and there’s no response, no car… nothing.

Eggsy’s heart starts to race.

What if he’s hurt? What if something happened?

He looks around wildly, but nothing stands out to him. Why would it?

It’s not like anyone around him knows he’s going through an existential crisis or anything.

Eggsy sends another text.

_‘Everything alright, guv?’_

But Harry still doesn’t respond.

It’s now been two hours and there’s nothing.

Eggsy’s turned down three men propositioning him, offering others instead, and when the fourth comes up he leaves the corner and makes his way around the block.

Maybe it’s… stalkery of him… but he goes to Harry’s home.

He’s been there a thousand times it feels like, so he knows the way, but the walk still takes a /long/ time.

Eggsy hops the gate, frowning when he doesn’t see Harry’s car there.

So he isn’t home… and he’s not responding to Eggsy.

Where the hell else could he be?

Eggsy drops back and sits in the grass as he sends a quick message to Roxy.

_‘Just letting u know that Harry never showed up and he isn’t answering my texts… not sure wut else to do, guess I’ll go home?’_

Roxy’s response is almost immediate.

_‘Do you want us to come back? We can, no problem.’_

_‘Nah, have fun with Dais.’_

_‘Are you okay?’_

_‘Worried.’_

_‘Let me know if you need anything.’_

_‘Will do, just have fun.’_

Eggsy tucks his phone back in his pocket and stares at the house for a long, /long/ moment. He’s not sure how long.

But then he leaves.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This full fic was already posted elsewhere (10.5k words) and has been since October. For full releases at once, visit my Tumblr @Cammerel to find out more.


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I keep fergetting to post this, here, have it.

_“Gary again, sorry. I hope yer not werkin’ or anything and I’m just… abusin’ yer phone while yer busy.”_

* * *

_“Okay, so it’s been like a week… wot the actual fuck is going on? I don’t think y’ve /went/ a whole week wi’vout messaging me since we swapped numbers. Hope everythin’ is okay.”_

* * *

“Look, I’m sorry I’ve left about a billion texts and phone messages, but I wouldn’t do it if I wasn’t worried. If this is your way of ending… wotever it is we been doing, just say so and I’ll back off. But I’m… I’m actually really worried you’ve went off an’ had a heart attack or som’fin or fallen down yer stairs in the middle of the night.”

Eggsy ends the call before he can start mumbling out more scenarios.

This time, he leaves the phone on the table and gets up to start getting dressed to head out. Whether he likes it or not, they’ve got to eat. And they can’t eat if they don’t have any money.

He sends a quick message to Roxy before heading out to the corner.

It’s been three weeks of painful silence between him and Harry. Worried doesn't even begin to explain how he feels right now and how he's felt for the last 23 days. He can't even count how many voicemails he's left on Harry's phone, honestly he's surprised that it hasn't told him that the box is full yet, or that his number has been blocked.

He's stopped by Harry's house a handful of times and no car is ever there. He keeps his eyes out for any sign of life, but the only one that arrives is the cleaners in the morning.

As much as Eggsy wants to talk to them, he's never spoken to them before and they don't even know who he is.

* * *

_“Just let me know, okay? Ya, it’s Eggsy again, sorry. Just let me know… something, please. Anything.”_

* * *

“You think he left on his own?”

“Nah. I… maybe?”

“Well, what was your last interaction like?”

Eggsy smiles slowly. He’s been filled with so much dread, but at least the last time with Harry had been as… perfect as it was, “He held me in the mornin’,” he says aloud, “Had some lazy sex, ate breakfast. It was all really flirty and sweet. And then he had to go to werk and I had to pick up Dais. And that was that.”

Roxy frowns as she holds his feet in her lap, massaging them gently, “At least it’s a good memory.”

“It is,” Eggsy agrees, “Nothin’ was out of place. ‘Cept fer the fact that we wasn’t… you know… together and legit.”

“Yeah.”

“Mm…”

“He never sent you any texts after that?”

Eggsy shakes his head, “He doesn’t normally text me if he’s werkin’. Not unless I message him first, or if he’s on lunch or som’fin’.”

“You keep using present tense,” Roxy observes and Eggsy’s cheeks turn red.

“God, don’t put me on blast, will ya? It’s bad enough he’s gone, I… I can’t help it.”

* * *

_“You didn’t leave, you wouldn’t. I know you wouldn’t. Just call me when you get this, okay? Miss hearin’ yer voice.”_

* * *

But Eggsy can’t imagine a scenario where Harry, Gentleman that he was, would just up and leave or disappear. Wouldn’t say goodbye, give a reason why, or talk to him about it.

Their relationship started in the first place by the older man saying far more than he /should/ to a complete stranger.

Harry wouldn’t abandon everything for a new life without saying a word.

He hadn’t during his marriage, when he was miserable.

What sense would it make to do that when he was finally happy?

Or… well, Eggsy had assumed he was happy.

Hoped he was.

There were certainly times where he seemed like he wasn’t, but they were few and far between, and they always made up… among other things.

But if he didn’t leave of his own accord, could he have died? Could he have been murdered?

Eggsy didn’t allow himself to think of either scenario too much. His heart couldn’t take it. He refused to think of it.

* * *

_“Look, I don’t expect anything. I never did. Our relationship, if you can even call it that, wasn’t really something made of expectations. And I don’t expect you to respond or have… kept coming around, or anything. It wasn’t like that. I’m sorry if I made you feel like it was. But it’s okay. I just… need ter know yer okay. Need ter know yer alive. Fuck… I should go. Sorry.”_

* * *

Eggsy hops the fence discreetly and makes his way towards some of the moving vans, interrupting one of the men when their gaze meets his.

“Hey, wot the fuck is going on here?” he asks, doing his best to sound authoritative.

The man raises a brow, suddenly looking sheepish, “I… I’m not at liberty to speak. Who are you?”

“I’m… the… son,” Eggsy says vaguely, going with the best thing he can think of at the time, “Who the fuck are you?”

“Merlin!” the man turns, calling out to someone else - ‘Merlin’, Eggsy presumes.

A bald man joins them, looking up from some kind of clipboard in his hand, “How can I… help you..?” the man’s eyes narrow at him, “Who are you?”

“Ya, I’m the one asking questions,” Eggsy says, raising his voice, “Wot the fuck are y’ doin’ takin’ stuff out of… my house?”

The man, Merlin, looks slightly surprised, “Y’er house?” he asks in challenge.

Eggsy frowns, heart racing, “My mum and dad’s house, ya.”

“/Your/ parents?” Merlin asks, “/You/ are Harry’s son?”

Eggsy glances away, swallowing, “Ya, long story, bruv.”

“You don’t look much like him.”

“Nah, I really don’t,” Eggsy agrees, finally looking back at him, “Not that it’s any of yer business. So wot the fuck are you doing?”

“You gonna show me an id?”

Eggsy smiles widely, “Seein’ as yer the one trespassin’, I feel like I should be the one asking that.”

Merlin’s lips tighten, “Very well then. We’re… removing your ‘father’s’ belongings because he’s passed.”

Eggsy blinks in shock, his mouth dropping open, “He wot?”

“He’s passed.”

“He…”

“Died, yes.”

Eggsy feels his legs turn to lead, his head spin as he reaches out to catch himself on the side of the nearest van.

He knows the man is saying something to him, offering something, taking his hand and putting something in it, but he pulls away.

Tears blur his eyes and he turns around, his hands moving up and pushing his hat down flat to his head as he tries to catch his breath, to breathe at all.

* * *

_“There are people at yer house taking yer FUCKING THINGS! They keep saying yer dead. They said yer dead. Yer not dead. Yer not fucking dead. Yer not FUCKING DEAD! Why would yer phone… why would yer phone still be active if you were dead?! Harry, please. Please, okay. Answer, call me, it… it can’t… FUCK!”_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This full fic was already posted elsewhere (10.5k words) and has been since October. For full releases at once, visit my Tumblr @Cammerel to find out more.


	6. Chapter 6

Eggsy stares at the little metal, rubbing it between his fingers and then holding it tight against his chest.

Hours pass, he stays in, numb to anything and everything.

It’s been months and he hadn’t cried until today.

He’d always held out hope that Harry had been… alive… somewhere. But he’s not. He’s gone.

He really /is/ gone.

Coming to terms with it might actually be impossible at this rate.

At least he knows now.

At least...

“Oh, Eggsy.”

Eggsy blinks when he realizes he’s no longer alone in his room, but he stays curled under the covers and doesn’t say anything.

_“Take Daisy to her room, will you Hamish? I think I’ll stay here the night.”_

The other person, Roxy’s boyfriend, doesn’t respond. Eggsy’s never met the man, but he must be nice if he won her over.

The door closes and Eggsy still doesn’t say or do anything until Roxy is right there in his vision, sat by the side of the bed on the ground to try and meet his eyes.

“Have you been crying?”

Eggsy starts to say something, anything, but the words choke and clog, and he turns into the pillow as he starts crying again.

“Oh god,” Roxy says and Eggsy feels her hand touch the covers, then brush his hair, “Eggsy, what happened? Did he… did he call? Did he talk to you?”

“He’s dead,” he chokes out, his body trembling.

“Oh…” Roxy’s hand stills, “How… how do you know? How did you find out?”

Eggsy tries to breathe, tries to speak properly, “I… went to his house… there were people taking his things.”

“That doesn’t mean he’s dead.”

Eggsy holds out the metal to her and she goes silent at once.

“Oh… god… holy fuck!” Roxy stands, taking the metal and leaving.

Eggsy doesn’t understand why she calls her boyfriend back in, muttered words between them are out of his hearing range, but then Roxy is back.

“Eggsy, this is Hamish-”

“I dern’t want ter meet yer boyfriend when I’m like… this… wot the fuck is wrong with you?” he asks through ragged, hoarse breaths and then stops when his eyes meet the same ones he saw that afternoon, “Wot..?”

Merlin, or Hamish, or whatever the fuck his name is, looks shocked when their gazes lock.

“Wait… you said you were Harry’s /son/.”

“Harry’s son?” Roxy looks confused, then her eyes widen, “You’re /Harry’s/ son? You.. wait… what is going on?”

Eggsy groans and sits upright, wiping his face and trying to collect himself, “No, god, fuck… no. That was a lie.”

“That /was/ a lie,” Hamish agrees and chuckles, “I wasn’t sure. Y’er a convincing liar. And Harry never shared his personal life with… well, anyone, really. Including me. So who are you and why does it matter?”

Roxy punches him in the arm, glaring at him before turning to Eggsy, “The man you’ve been sleeping with…” she says softly, “You never told me his name. That was Harry?”

Eggsy nods.

Hamish looks completely shocked and dumbfounded, “You’ve been having sex with Harry?” Eggsy nods again, “Harry /Hart/?”

Eggsy nods a third time, getting annoyed.

Hamish takes his phone from his pocket, going through it for a second before offering it to Eggsy, “/This/ man?”

Eggsy blinks a few times before his vision starts to blur, but he nods again.

“Oh,” Hamish says, his tone gentler now, but Eggsy barely makes out what he says next - an apology of some sort.

Roxy joins him, pulling him into her arms and patting his hair.

“I… am having a hard time believing Harry would be involved in an affair.”

Eggsy looks to Hamish, finally collecting himself again, “It’s not like it’s something he /planned/. Well… not really. Harry struggled with a lot of things in his marriage. He was gay.”

“Was he?” Merlin clears his throat, “I mean, a handler has his suspicions, but… I knew he was married, so I just… assumed he’d done it for love, like normal people do.”

“Eggsy and him have been seeing eachother for some time now,” Roxy explains, “Almost a full year before he-”

“Please don’t,” Eggsy shakes his head, “I can’t hear it again. Not yet.”

“Sorry.”

Eggsy frowns as he looks at Hamish, “So are you Hamish or Merlin?”

“Both,” Hamish says quickly, glancing at Roxy, “And y’er not Harry’s son… but his /mistress/, apparently.”

Eggsy shrugs, “Guess so. So wot, did you work wi’v ‘im? Was you a tailor as well?”

“Harry wasn’t a tailor, Eggsy,” Roxy cuts in before Hamish can respond, but then she looks at him as though asking for permission, “Could we, please? He deserves to know.”

“He was just-”

“He wasn’t,” Roxy says firmly, “They were so much more than that, Hamish. And besides… Eggsy can keep a secret. He never even told /me/ Harry’s name, not for nearly a whole year. I only found out now because of the metal. And even then, I didn’t know /who/ it belonged to. We lost a lot of agents on VDay.”

“Agents?” Eggsy asks in confusion.

Hamish sighs and looks at Eggsy then, “Harry was a spy.”

Eggsy stares at him, frowning, and then bursts into laughter. It’s such genuine laughter that it takes him by surprise, tears stinging his eyes.

“Harry? A spy?” he continues to laugh, “My Harry? You think /my/ Harry was a spy?”

“He was,” Hamish insists, making Eggsy laugh harder, “He was a great spy. Taken countless cases, killed countless people-”

“Yer off yer rocker, bruv,” Eggsy says, wiping at the tears, “Harry was harmless. He couldn’t hurt a goddamn bird, let alone a person.”

Hamish seems to actually get annoyed at this, “Harry Hart, yes, the same Harry Hart. Who… god, I don’t know a lot about his personal life. He… collected butterflies, he was going to be a lepidopterist before he went into the army. The same Harry. Had a dog stuffed and mounted in his bathroom-”

“Mr. Pickle. Ya.”

“Yes, he shot that very dog.”

“He didn’t shoot Mr. Pickle,” Eggsy responds, “He died of pancreatitis.”

“After Harry shot him, yes,” Hamish says calmly, “He didn’t /really/ shoot him, it was a blank. But Harry knowingly aimed a gun and shot his own dog. He was a cold-blooded killer and a good one. He was a good agent.”

Eggsy rolls his eyes and sits back against the frame of his bed, “Ya, sure, alright. I’ll play yer stupid game. How good /was/ he?” he asks with feigned enthusiasm.

Hamish sighs, “I’m not really allowed to say too much, a lot of it is… confidential. I shouldn’t even be telling you any of this. But he was our best. Only he could’ve taken the last mission he took. He was the most qualified. And he failed.”

Eggsy swallows tightly.

“He infiltrated a church where Valentine was testing his VDay sim cards.”

Eggsy’s eyes widen, “Yer kidding. He went into something like that alone? Something like… like the end of the world we all experienced fer like… seven minutes? He was involved in all of that?”

“Aye.”

“And he died because of it.”

“Well,” Roxy tilts her head to the left and then to the right.

“Not exactly,” Hamish admits, looking nervous, “I shouldn’t be telling y-”

“Tell me, please,” Eggsy says firmly, “I have to know.”

Hamish folds, getting up and sitting on the edge of the bed, “He actually outlived the attack. I told ye, he was our best agent. He was actually quite glorious, in a terrifying way. I wasn’t really able to confirm all of his kills, but it was quite… extensive. When he got out of the church, Valentine was waiting for him and shot him in the head.”

Eggsy feels the tears coming again and looks away.

Roxy squeezes him close, “He was a great man though, Eggsy, he really was.”

“I know he was, yer dern’t have to tell me.”

“And he was loyal and fearless and our most dedicated agent,” Hamish speaks up again, touching Eggsy’s knee, “Our agents live very difficult lives. It’s not easy to be close to someone, to have time to spend with anyone. But you seem like you really loved him.”

“I still do.”

“I’m glad he had someone like that,” Hamish tells him, “It might not seem like much to you, but I can only imagine that it was everything to him.”

Eggsy wipes a tear with his thumb, “Ya, well, I’m not really glad about much of anything right now. All I really have are memories. I doubt you put out a grave for a spy...”

“You’d be right to assume that,” Hamish bows his head, “Perhaps there /is/ something I can offer you.”

Eggsy frowns, his brows narrowed, “Ya? I doubt it. Not unless you can bring him back.”

* * *

_“I’ll be honest. I just called to see if the phone was still active.”_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This full fic was already posted elsewhere (10.5k words) and has been since October. For full releases at once, visit my Tumblr @Cammerel to find out more.


	7. Chapter 7

“It’s not much,” Hamish hands him the bottle, “But I doubt you weren’t familiar with this specific formula.”

Eggsy eyes it skeptically, but then sniffs it and blushes, looking away as he stuffs it in his jacket pocket, “Thanks, Hamish.”

“Keep our number,” Hamish says and motions to his neck where he wears the metal, “If you ever need anything, okay? You let us know. You call that number and tell the person on the other side ‘Manners Maketh Man’ and we’ll do anything in our power to help.”

“Not much you can do to help me,” Eggsy says, “Not unless he magically comes back from the dead.”

* * *

_“Still active? Really? After this long? God, I miss you. Fuck. I miss the smell of you, I miss the taste of you, I miss the /feel/ of you, I miss cummin’ in you. I miss watchin’ stupid shows with you. I miss yer stupid perfect hair and yer stupid perfect suit with yer stupid perfect-”_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This full fic was already posted elsewhere (10.5k words) and has been since October. For full releases at once, visit my Tumblr @Cammerel to find out more.


	8. Chapter 8

Time moves on.

Like all things do.

Days have to pass, seasons have to change.

Eggsy struggles to keep himself afloat while raising his sister, but it isn’t easy. He /does/ sometimes drink himself completely under when he knows he’ll be alone to do it.

Memories of Harry weaken and wane.

And sometimes Eggsy comes home and takes the cologne and sprays his bed with it and curls into it until he cries himself to sleep.

And sometimes he doesn’t.

Sometimes he’s okay.

Most of the time he isn’t, but there are glimpses of the person he was before he met Harry Hart… every once in a while.

He stopped standing on the curb shortly after Harry passed on, unable to stomach having someone else touch him without losing anything and everything in his stomach.

Eventually, he got a proper job.

Something monotonous where he can work in silence and won’t be bothered… at least by customers. He’s constantly bothered by fellow employees, but at least he can put on his headphones and lose himself for most of the day.

Roxy doesn’t like it, she complains about him working at the warehouse almost every time they see one another, but their friendship isn’t what it was.

Eggsy’s grown distant from just about anyone and everyone, including his mates. He probably sees Roxy once or twice a month, if they can meet up, but even /she’s/ too busy sometimes.

That doesn’t stop her from trying to hook him up with a few people.

The first is this pompous man that Eggsy ends up pouring his drink all over before he leaves the movie theatre. And the second… well…

He wasn’t so bad.

But there were some things about him that reminded Eggsy of Harry in a weird way. He was older and quiet and soft. But he was… also kind of creepy and cold at times.

Eggsy ducked out of the restaurant while he was in the bathroom and never heard from the man again. Thank god for that.

* * *

_“I miss you. I wish there was… something I could do… anywhere I could go. There’s no grave, yer house has been sold. There’s a whole new family livin’ in it, too. It’s fuckin’ weird and wild. They have kids, and I’ve seen them. I keep thinkin’ about how you wanted kids. So uh… I guess this is really the only place I can go now.”_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This full fic was already posted elsewhere (10.5k words) and has been since October. For full releases at once, visit my Tumblr @Cammerel to find out more.


	9. Chapter 9

“Can we talk?”

“We /are/ talkin’,” Eggsy mutters and takes a sip of his nearly fully melted frappe.

“Not about…” Roxy waves her hand, “Stupid… menial things. I want to talk to you about something you’ve been avoiding for a long time.”

“Rox-”

She cuts him off, “Hear me out, okay.”

Eggsy sighs.

“It’s been two years.”

He looks away from her.

“That’s what I’m talking about,” she motions to him, he can see it out of the corner of his eye, “That right there, that. You can’t keep doing that. Why not just… move on?”

Eggsy bites the inside of his lower lip and shakes his head.

“It’s been two years. You deserve to be happy.”

“I /was/ happy.”

“With someone else.”

Eggsy feels the anger building in his gut as he shakes his head again.

“Someone your age, someone not married, someone that can openly love you and appreciate you,” Roxy says and takes his hand, “Harry is dead. So why… why put yourself through this?”

Eggsy looks at her, at her large glasses, at her suit, at her briefcase and umbrella at her legs, and he just feels… so angry and so sad that she really doesn’t understand, “Don’t you think I wish I /could/? You don’t f'ink I wish I could stop thinkin' about 'im? Stop lovin' 'im?”

“Eggsy-”

“I can’t, Rox,” he defends himself, “Until I stop feelin’ his arms around me… until I ferget wot ‘is voice sounds like… I know it doesn’t make sense to you. I know it sounds stupid because it seems so simple and easy to you, but it isn’t. There’s nothing easy about wot I’m going through.”

“Eggsy, I’m so sorry.”

“So am I,” Eggsy looks away, trembling and wiping his eyes, “I don’t like it either, Rox. I hate that I’m like this. But I love him. And the f’ought of bein’ with anyone else makes me sick to my stomach. I only had a few moments with him and half them felt like they was stolen, but they was mine.”

He stands up, putting a few bills on the table.

“I gotta go-”

“Eggsy-”

“Thanks fer coffee, Rox,” Eggsy says, his bottom lip trembling, “But I can’t do this. I can’t talk about this. I don’t think I’ll ever-... later, okay?”

And he leaves before he loses it completely.

The crisp air hits him hard as he walks out of the shop and his hand goes to his chest where the medal is. And then he walks away, quickly taking out his phone.

* * *

He doesn’t see the tears in Roxy’s eyes when he leaves, doesn’t see her nudge her glasses and sip her warm coffee for a long silent moment afterwards.

He doesn’t hear her speak lowly under her breath when she’s sure he’s gone.

“Are you still with me, Arthur?”

He wouldn’t have heard the response even if he /had/ been in earshot, but Roxy did.

_“I am.”_

Roxy wipes her eyes as subtly as she can, “And? Any chance you’re going to do something about it?”

_“I suppose… I must. I don’t think this is something that can or should be avoided any longer. Thank you for sharing this with me, Lancelot. Though I think he may be unhappy when he finds out, perhaps it was necessary.”_

“Pleasure to be of service, sir,” Roxy responds and pays for the bill, taking up her briefcase and umbrella, “Do you still want me to come back in?”

_“Please.”_

“On my way.”

* * *

_“Hey. Calling again. Fer about the thousandth time. Honestly, it’s been about… five months since my last message? I wanted to hear yer voice. Even if it’s short and impersonal. Just got done talkin’ to Rox and maybe I haven’t said everything I’ve wanted to say._

_“Yer not hearin’ these messages, but I like to think you are. If it wasn’t obvious from the time we shared together, then I… I want you to know that I loved you, that I still love you and I’ll always love you. It’s stupid and childish, but you were important to me. You were someone I could be with that was just as weird and just as sincere. And you were flawed… like me. Not in the same ways, but enough._

_“My friends think I’m insane and that I should get over you - and they’re right, I should. I can’t help it. After a while I just accepted that you might be in my life fer the rest of it. It’s impractical, of course, since you were older. But I always thought maybe… I’d die in some stupid way and you would just… always be there. But now you’ve gone and left me and I don’t know wot ter do wi’v myself._

_“Last time we was real close, really openly close, you said some things that have stuck with me since. Haunted me. I… it was never enough, was it? It really wasn’t. I said it at the time, but I don’t think I quite understood it until after you died. And god, I wanted yer ter keep me. You should’ve. It was more than yer right ter do so, because I was yers. I /am/ yers. And I always wanted ter stay. Leaving was the hardest part of every morning we shared together._

_“Til next time I wanna hear yer voice, night, Harry.”_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This full fic was already posted elsewhere (10.5k words) and has been since October, the second part is ALSO up there and has been since January 3rd (it's a little more than 5k).
> 
> Part 2 will be coming to AO3 in a few months.
> 
> For full releases at once, visit my Tumblr @Cammerel to find out more.


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